


Undercover

by Klitch



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5674828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klitch/pseuds/Klitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Fushimi and Munakata go undercover, and Fushimi finds new uses for high heels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undercover

**Author's Note:**

> My first 'proper' Reisaru fic, unexpectedly. I got this idea from an ask involving Fushimi in a dress with his knives strapped to his thighs, and it ended up longer than I was intending ^^ Post-series, going with the idea that everyone's powers still exist but in a weakened state, save for King powers which are gone entirely.

“Why the hell do I have to do this?” 

“Please stand up straight, Fushimi-kun. You are wrinkling your dress.” 

Fushimi shot Munakata a glare even as he irritably ran a hand down the deep blue fabric of his evening dress. Somehow it seemed like these sorts of things always happened to him. 

Scepter 4 had gotten intel about the party and accompanying auction two weeks ago. In the aftermath of the destruction of the Dresden Slate criminal Strains were desperate to hold onto their power in any way they could. Jungle had apparently leaked more information of the Slate before its destruction than they'd been aware of, and one particularly enterprising Strain who happened to be the head of a crime syndicate had gone to the trouble of sneaking into the remains of jungle's headquarters at night and seeing what he could salvage of the rubble that had been the Dresden Slate. 

What exactly he had recovered and whether it would be of any use was the question, but Munakata had been concerned enough to have Fushimi look into it further. It had been a bother, but after following several leads and different informants he'd managed to find his way to a particular section of the internet where the Strain in question, Asai Yuuki, was offering invitations for a special silent auction wherein he intended to sell the piece of the Slate that he had salvaged, claiming that his own Strain powers (the ability to create destructive spheres of light from his fingertips, or so the man said) had been enhanced simply by holding the rock in his hands. 

From there it had been easy to hack into Asai's database and get a list of the 'guests' invited to the auction. Asai's family ostensibly ran a large manufacturing company that was almost certainly a cover for their criminal activities and the auction itself was being held in a privately-owned townhouse just outside the city. The majority of those attending were either Strains themselves or members of various illegal gangs and such who had Strains amongst their ranks, and all of them more or less fell neatly into Scepter 4's jurisdiction. All they had to do was wait until the day of the auction and arrest all the attendees at once. 

Something which should have been simple, but unfortunately with their own powers no longer as strong as they had once been slightly more stealth was needed. Asai's townhouse was heavily guarded after all, with its own state-of-the-art security system that could only be shut off from the inside. Therefore, it had become necessary for someone to get inside in order to disable the security systems and then allow the rest of Scepter 4 to mount a full attack before anyone could be alerted of their presence. 

_So why the hell did I have to do this?_ Fushimi thought darkly as he glared at the line of people in front of him waiting to be checked in by the man guarding the door. He'd managed to get a list of the guests and it hadn't been terribly difficult to track down a couple of them and arrest them in order to secure an invitation to the party. The two they had ended up capturing had been a couple, a man and his girlfriend who had committed several high profile crimes in the months before jungle had stolen the Slate, in addition to being U-rank jungle players themselves. 

Fushimi had assumed that as the invitations were for a man and a woman, he and Awashima would be sent to infiltrate the party. However, it seemed that the male half of the couple they were to impersonate, Tanuma Hiroshi, was gifted with Strain powers that involved the ability to instantly translate foreign languages and Munakata was the only member of Scepter 4 fluent enough in multiple languages to pass if someone attempted to verify their identities. But Fushimi was the only one who could hack into the security system, and so that had left them with only one choice. 

And that was how he'd ended up _here,_ waiting in a line to enter the party with Munakata standing at his side in a full suit and Fushimi wearing a black wig, high heels, a lacy shawl over his shoulders and a long blue party dress with a slit up one side that came up to just above the knee, just barely managing to keep hidden the multiple sets of knives Fushimi had strapped to his thighs. 

“Can't we just arrest all of them now?” Fushimi muttered to Munakata. Awashima had given him a fancy paper fan and he held in front of his face as he spoke. 

“Patience, Fushimi-kun. Our true target is inside, after all. Beginning the operation here would simply cause everyone to scatter before Awashima-kun could finish setting up troops around the perimeter. For now we must play our parts until the correct time.” Munakata gave Fushimi a brilliant smile as he held up one arm. “Now, shall we?” 

“Tch.” Fushimi clicked his tongue and deliberately stepped forward on his own. One of the heels of his shoes promptly hit a bad spot on the ground and he stumbled for a moment before being grabbed smoothly by Munakata. 

“Careful, Fushimi-kun.” Munakata's smile was a little too bright and Fushimi glared at him. 

“Why did I even have to wear these?” Fushimi muttered. “How the hell is anyone supposed to walk like this?” 

“I imagine you will get the hang of it eventually Fushimi-kun,” Munakata said, not letting go of Fushimi's arm as they stepped towards the doorman. 

The man guarding the door was tall and broad-shouldered, with a thick neck and beady eyes that made Fushimi think of a pig. The man's eyes lingered coldly on Munakata as he stepped forward but the smile on Munakata's face didn't waver in the slightest as he presented their PDAs. Fushimi tried not to roll his eyes. 

“Tanuma Hiroshi.” The doorman read the name off the screen as he took the two PDAs into his own hands and looked down at Munakata, who nodded. “And...Asakura Fujiko?” His gaze turned to Fushimi, sweeping up and down his body with an appraising look that made Fushimi's eyes narrow and he held the fan back up over his face to mask his grimace. 

“Asakura-san is feeling a little under the weather today,” Munakata said smoothly. “I'm afraid she's caught a bit of a cold and her voice is rather hoarse. I will speak for her, if I may.” 

The doorman's eyes narrowed for a moment and Munakata continued to regard him calmly. One of Fushimi's hands slid down to brush against the high slit in the side of his dress, inches away from where the thigh harness and his weapons were concealed. Finding a place to hide the knives had been the biggest bother of the entire mission – the dress itself was clingy and somewhat low cut, and he'd been forced to sit there while Awashima and a few of the women from general affairs padded the chest and fussed over the wig and makeup, allowing him to wear the shawl only when it proved impossible to properly hide the burn scar on his chest with makeup alone. Fushimi had complained about the lack of places to hide weapons in this kind of outfit as his usual harness was clearly too bulky to fit neatly underneath something so form-fitting and someone had suggested he hide them underneath the skirt of the dress. It had taken a bit of work to modify a harness so that it would fit properly around his upper thighs and he hadn't had time to add much padding so that the knives weren't constantly knocking against his bare skin, but it was the best he'd been able to manage on short notice. 

“IDs are a match. Please follow the path to Asai-san's townhouse and wait with the rest in the main hall. The auction will start within the next hour.” The doorman handed the PDAs back to Munakata, who bowed slightly and gripped Fushimi's arm just a bit tighter as moved to go inside. Fushimi kept his eyes on the doorman as they walked through the gate, the fan still in front of his face. 

The townhouse itself was quite large and stupidly ostentatious, in Fushimi's opinion. It was surrounded by a lavish garden – and there was even a ridiculous butterfly-shaped gazebo on one side of the house, what kind of idiot would think something like that was worth having – and the house itself was strung with lights as though it was still Christmas. 

“They might as well have hung up a sign, 'illegal business going on today,'” Fushimi muttered as he followed Munakata up the stone walkway towards the open front door. 

“Now now, Fushimi-kun,” Munakata said with a slight laugh. “Asai-san is simply holding a small gathering for some friends. It certainly wouldn't do to make such accusations without proof, would it?” He gave Fushimi a knowing look and Fushimi sighed. 

“Right, right.” Fushimi's eyes scanned the garden and he held the fan up in front of his face again, covering his mouth. “To the right, Captain.” 

“Ah, you saw?” 

“Security cameras.” 

“There were two more near the main gate as well,” Munakata said. His serene expression didn't change and to an onlooker it would have seemed as if he was simply discussing the decor with his companion. “I believe I saw signs of motion detectors along the edge of the garden wall.” 

“And over the front door too, disguised as lights.” Fushimi clicked his tongue. “This bastard is well protected, huh.” 

“Indeed,” Munakata said. “I trust you will be able to disable those?” 

“Tch. Who do you think you're talking to?” Fushimi let the fan hide the slight smile on his face. 

“Of course. I have every confidence in you, Fushimi-kun. As soon as we have made ourselves seen, attempt to excuse yourself and find where the main security console is.” 

“Once I find it I'm taking off these damn heels,” Fushimi muttered. Munakata laughed again and Fushimi gave him a sidelong look. “And what about you, Captain?” 

“Hmm?” 

“While I look for the security console. You'll be on your own inside.” Fushimi tried to keep his voice calm and cold, strategic, no emotion involved whatsoever. “If Asai catches on to what we're doing you'll be in trouble. You don't have powers anymore.” 

“Is that so.” Munakata didn't seem at all affected by Fushimi's blunt choice of words. “I imagine I will manage somehow in your absence, Fushimi-kun. I expect that should any true danger arrive, you will do your best to assist me. Now, come along.” He increased his pace slightly as they neared the door, leaving Fushimi staring darkly after him. 

“Idiot. Don't say that kind of thing to me.” Fushimi felt a hint of smile tugging at his lips anyway, and he shook his head as he stepped forward to join his King. 

– 

“Ah, and this must be Tanuma-san and Asakura-san!” A middle-aged man met them as they entered. He was wearing an expensive-looking tailored suit with a stupid red flower in the lapel, and he reached out to shake Munakata's hand without waiting for an invitation. 

“You must be Asai Yuuki-san.” Munakata didn't even hesitate as the man took his hand. “I must thank you for your kind invitation. I understand you have come into possession of a certain artifact of note recently.” 

“Yes, something like that.” Asai met Munakata's gaze for a moment, and Fushimi couldn't help but smirk a bit as the man looked away almost immediately. “In any case, it is not time yet for talking business. This is a party for friends, is it not?' 

“Indeed. I do hope you and I can be friends, Asai-san,” Munakata replied smoothly. “Perhaps we will have time to talk business later, in private.” 

“Of course, Tanuma-san. I have heard many interesting stories of your exploits prior to the demise of jungle.” Asai's gaze slid over to Fushimi, who returned it flatly. “And this must be your lovely partner. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Asakura-san.” He reached for Fushimi's hand and Fushimi promptly pulled his hands back to his sides. 

“I'm afraid you will have to forgive Asakura-san's rudeness,” Munakata said. “She has been suffering from a bit of a cold of late. In truth I had intended for her to stay behind and rest but it seems she is quite the unreasonable person.” 

_Who's being the unreasonable one here?_ Fushimi thought peevishly. Munakata was giving him an expectant look and Fushimi swallowed a sigh as he held his hand out for Asai to take. 

“I see. Even so, Asakura-san, I look forward to working with you as well.” Asai gave a half bow, eyes slowly lingering their way up and down Fushimi's body as the man leaned forward and kissed Fushimi's outstretched hand. 

It took everything in him not to reach for the knives underneath his dress and Fushimi managed something like a smile as he abruptly pulled his hand back. Before Asai could even so much as take another step towards him Munakata had wrapped an arm around Fushimi's waist and was leading him away. 

“It seems Asakura-san is impatient to get to the party,” Munakata said smoothly, glancing back at Asai. “I do hope we are able to speak more later, Asai-san. Now, come along, Asakura-san.” 

“I'm going to kill that bastard,” Fushimi muttered under his breath as they walked out onto the floor of the main hall. The room was enormous, with a high arched ceiling that reminded Fushimi of Scepter 4. The place was already packed with people, mingling around between the lavish buffet tables and talking idly with each other. Unconsciously Fushimi found himself moving to take a step backwards only to find himself carefully steered forward by Munakata's hand still resting on his lower back. 

“Now, now, Fushimi-kun.” Munakata's tone was amused but there was an unexpected hardness to his eyes. “Asai-san was simply attempting to be a courteous host. I imagine he found you quite charming.” 

Fushimi snorted at that and Munakata chuckled quietly as he pulled Fushimi into a corner of the room near a large ostentatious planter. 

“Anyway, Captain, now what?” Fushimi asked softly, casting his eyes around the room carefully as he noted the rest of the cameras that lined the high ceiling. “We aren't here to make small talk, right?” 

“On the contrary, Fushimi-kun,” Munakata said, “there is quite a lot of information to be gathered from small talk. There are some people of importance here tonight, it seems. It wouldn't do not to introduce ourselves to them and discuss business for a bit.” 

_“You_ can do that,” Fushimi said. “I have another job to do, right?” 

“Of course. See what you can find about the security systems. We will reconvene back in this spot afterward.” 

“Right.” Fushimi paused. “Captain.” 

“Yes, Fushimi-kun?” 

“Are you going to do something about that?” Fushimi pointedly looked down at Munakata's arm, still wrapped around his waist. Munakata's smile seemed to almost _brighten_ , even as he finally removed his hand. 

“Oh my. My apologies, Fushimi-kun.” 

– 

_Three cameras there. Two in the far corner. And the power cables..._ Fushimi wandered along the outskirts of the party, making note of the security systems as he walked and trying to ignore how his feet already ached. Honestly, how was anyone supposed to walk in stupid shoes like these? He had unexpectedly gained a newfound respect for the Lieutenant. 

He heard the sound of familiar laughter and Fushimi glanced back towards the center of the room. He could just make out Munakata standing there in the middle of a group of people, holding a glass of champagne and smiling as he spoke with the people around him. 

Fushimi hunched his shoulders and went back to his observations. A few people had attempted small talk with him and he'd mostly managed to brush them off with a wave of the hand fan and a glare. Seeing Munakata there in the center of all those people, perfectly at ease despite the danger surrounding them, somehow made him feel even more irritated. 

Beyond that, even being in this stupid party was making him feel twitchy and surrounded. There were too many people, that was all – being in the presence of so many idiots was putting him on edge. 

He was aware of a presence approaching him from behind and one of Fushimi's hands brushed against the slit in the side of his dress again as he whirled around. One of his heels promptly slid slightly on the smooth floor and he had to flail around for a moment to keep his balance. 

Someone grabbed his wrist in an iron tight grip and dragged him upright. Fushimi tensed as he suddenly found himself face to face with the doorman. 

“Asakura-san...wasn't it?” The doorman gave Fushimi a wide oily smile and Fushimi had to fight to keep himself from scowling in return. “A lady like you should be careful wandering around a party like this alone. That Tanuma's left you by yourself, huh?” 

Fushimi grimaced internally. He wanted to pull his arm away but the man held it tight, his giant hands feeling sweaty and uncomfortable against Fushimi's skin. The thought of the knives beneath his skirt flashed through his head again and was rejected, there were too many people here. If he pulled out a weapon now he'd be surrounded in no time. 

And beyond that, any suspicious moves he made here would cast aspersions on his companion as well, and Munakata was still unarmed in the center of a group of criminal Strains. Fushimi grit his teeth and tried to smile. 

“I'm Ichida,” the doorman continued, smiling widely in a way that Fushimi supposed was meant to be charming. Fushimi thought about sticking knives in the man's thick ugly neck and his own smile managed to feel just a little more real. “I've heard amazing things about you, Asakura-san, but I didn't expect you to be such a delicate little thing. Tanuma's a lucky guy, huh?” 

Fushimi gave a noncommittal shrug, attempting to pull his hand back. Ichida's grip tightened and he dragged Fushimi forward, close enough that Fushimi could smell the man's disgusting breath. 

“A lady should really be more careful...alone.” Ichida licked his lips and Fushimi imagined stabbing him in the eye. “Why don't I keep hold of you until your man comes back for you? Wouldn't want anything to happen to such a beautiful woman, would we?” 

“Indeed.” Munakata's voice made them both jump and Fushimi took advantage of the momentary distraction to yank his hand away. 

“T-Tanuma-san.” Ichida swallowed hard and then managed a shaky smile. “You shouldn't leave your woman alone in a place like this, you know. Lots of..unsavory types around here.” 

“I appreciate your concern,” Munakata said, stepping so he was neatly between Fushimi and Ichida. “I'm afraid I have need of Asakura-san's presence. I will have to beg your pardon in this.” 

“R-right.” Ichida nodded slowly and Fushimi wondered if the big words had been too much for the man's small mind. 

“Well, then.” Munakata smiled brilliantly. “I do hope we can speak with you further later, Ichida-san. If you would, Asakura-san.” 

Munakata began to walk away and Fushimi followed one step after, careful not to slip again as he tried his best to keep up with Munakata's pace. 

“I thought you were gathering information,” Fushimi said as he pulled level with Munakata. 

“It seemed you were in some distress, so I took it upon myself to step in,” Munakata said smoothly. 

“I don't need you to protect me,” Fushimi muttered. “I can handle myself.” 

“Even so, I thought it best to intervene before matters became...messy.” Munakata's eyes darted towards the skirt of Fushimi's dress and Fushimi realized that he'd been holding onto it the whole time, hand inches away from where the knives were strapped against his thigh. 

“And what would you have done if they'd _actually_ gotten...messy?” Fushimi grumbled, forcing himself to release his hold on his dress. Munakata looked momentarily surprised at that and Fushimi raised his head so that their eyes could meet. “ _You're_ the one in the most danger here, Captain. What did you think you were going to do if that idiot hadn't been willing to let me go so easily?” 

“I imagine I would have found some solution,” Munakata said, sounding amused for reasons Fushimi couldn't quite place. 

“And if the worst happens?” Fushimi didn't know why he said it, only that he was annoyed and the knife strap against his legs was itchy and his wrist still felt clammy from where that man's hand had been clamped over it. “You can't talk your way out of everything, Captain.” 

“Of course,” Munakata said with a calm smile. “That is why I have you with me, Fushimi-kun.” 

Fushimi froze for a moment and stumbled just slightly. He righted himself almost immediately and clicked his tongue to cover the slip. 

“Tch. Keep that in mind the next time I want to discuss a pay raise.” 

“Certainly, Fushimi-kun. So, did you discover anything of use?” 

“I think the security console is somewhere on the second floor,” Fushimi said. He paused, taking a step closer to Munakata as he pulled out his fan again to hide both their faces. “And those tables are bugged.” 

“Ah. I suspected as much.” Munakata's eyes scanned the room again. “It seems Asai-san is sparing no expense. Unsurprising, considering the treasure he has in his grasp.” 

“That moron really managed to get hold of part of the Slate?” Fushimi couldn't hide his own surprise. He'd assumed the entire thing was a complete ruse, a plot to hand out useless chunks of rock to a bunch of idiots who couldn't acknowledge that their powers were never going to be the same. 

_“That is why I have you with me, Fushimi-kun,”_ and Fushimi's fingers clenched just slightly. 

“I believe so.” Munakata nodded towards a tall man near the far corner of the room. “I was speaking with Moriyama-san earlier. It seems Asai-san owns a partial stake in one of the companies in charge of the clean-up of jungle's headquarters after its destruction. Apparently Asai-san went down to the site himself for several days to observe the clean-up. In such time I imagine it would be easy to take a piece of the rubble as perhaps a souvenir, and have no one be the wiser.” 

“If that bastard's been using the power of the Slate won't that be a problem?” Fushimi asked. Just what he needed, really, as if this job wasn't bad enough already. 

“As to that..I have my doubts,” Munakata said. “If Asai Yuuki truly was able to tap into the powers of the Dresden Slate why would he be in such a hurry to rid himself of it? I suspect he is merely hoping to take advantage of a strong rumor and the fear of those who have found their powers waning in order to improve his own standing.” 

“Or he's just used it as much as he can and is planning on passing it on to the next guy so that they can be a target instead of him,” Fushimi said darkly. 

“Perhaps. But even in pieces, the Dresden Slate is not something which can be controlled by anyone, Fushimi-kun. I doubt Asai Yuuki has such capabilities, even if such a thing were possible.” 

“What if it was held by someone who _could_ control it?” The thought suddenly crossed Fushimi's mind and he regarded Munakata keenly. “Is _that_ why you came along with me here, Captain? To see if Asai really had a piece of the Slate, and what you could do with it?” 

“I am pleased you think so highly of me, Fushimi-kun,” Munakata said. “Well, the thought had crossed my mind, but that was not my primary reason for attending this party. Though I did believe strongly that the Slate system was necessary to keep order in Japan, now that it is gone I feel that looking back upon the path we have already tread is a fool's errand. But that being the case, I cannot allow anyone who threatens the order of Japan to proceed without restraint either. That is why I chose to come here, so that I may see such things with my own eyes.” His eyes seemed to sparkle just slightly as he glanced back at Fushimi. “And of course, I could not allow Fushimi-kun to arrive at a place such as this without a proper companion. It seems I must keep an eye on you or the entire guest list will have tried to steal you out from under me, Fushimi-kun.” 

“If you have time for that then look after yourself.” Fushimi crossed his arms and sighed. “Well? Now what do we do?” 

“We need to find a way to get you upstairs,” Munakata said. “Then once you have disengaged the security system we merely need to wait for Awashima-kun to begin the attack.” His eyes darted to where Ichida was still skulking around the far side of the room and Fushimi had a sudden sinking feeling. 

“Captain...” 

“Now, now, Fushimi-kun. Ichida-san was so worried for your well-being, it wouldn't do not to reward him for his concern, now would it?” 

– 

_Next time I make him wear the dress,_ Fushimi thought darkly as he positioned himself near one of the doors. Out of the corner of one eye he could see the idiot Ichida prowling along the walls, probably trying to play security. Fushimi tried his best to look nonchalant as he pretended to walk towards one of the buffet tables. 

A few steps from the table he deliberately tripped over his shoes, throwing one arm up dramatically over his forehead as he fell forward. 

“Careful, Asakura-san!” Munakata caught him easily, as expected, voice full of false urgency. Fushimi resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he sagged weakly in Munakata's arms. 

“Is there a problem, Tanuma-san?” Ichida's shadow fell over them as the man walked over to them, his eyes immediately sweeping back over Fushimi as Munakata helped him back to his feet. Fushimi pulled out the fan and held it over his face again to mask his scowl. 

“I'm afraid this atmosphere has caused Asakura-san to become a bit overwhelmed,” Munakata said. “She appears to be feeling rather faint. Ichida-san, you work for Asai-san, correct? I imagine you could tell us where there may be an empty room for her to rest and get some air. Perhaps on one of the upper floors, where the air is cleaner.” 

_'Where the air is cleaner,' only an idiot would fall for such an obvious trap._ Fushimi sagged against the wall as though exhausted and waited for the idiot to fall for the obvious trap. 

“Certainly. It would, ah, be my honor.” Ichida leered openly at him and Fushimi shot Munakata another glare. He was _definitely_ demanding overtime for this. “Don't worry, Tanuma-san, I'll be sure to take... _good care_ of your woman. Follow me, Asakura-san.” He held out one arm and Fushimi reluctantly took it. He was going to have to wash his hands as soon as he got out of this stupid disguise. 

“I appreciate your support,” Munakata said pleasantly. “Well, Asakura-san, please get some rest above. Ichida-san, I leave her in your hands.” 

Ichida nodded in Munakata's direction and all but yanked Fushimi towards the door. One of Fushimi's hands crept towards the slit in his dress but he didn't move for the knife and allowed himself to be led out of the room. 

Glancing back, he could still see Munakata standing there in the middle of a room full of criminals, smiling calmly at him. 

_You'd better not get yourself into trouble while I'm not there, Captain._

– 

“Well then,” Munakata said to himself as Fushimi and Ichida disappeared down the hall. He turned back to the main room, easily wading back into the sea of people. 

Certainly it had been handy, having Fushimi so nearby in case of emergencies, but it wasn't as if Munakata didn't have his own part in this as well. His first walk through the room had netted quite a bit of intel about various underground activities of criminals Scepter 4 had been pursuing for some time. He was looking forward to discussing his findings with Awashima once this operation was over. 

“Excuse me, would you be Tanuma-san?” 

Munakata looked up as a man dressed in formal clothes approached him with a bow. 

“Asai-san has requested your presence in the garden.” 

“Oh?” Munakata raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Well, it would be foolish to refuse an opportunity that had so easily presented itself in front of him, and Munakata allowed the man to lead him out the side door into the garden. 

Asai's garden was certainly quite elaborate, Munakata noted. There were quite a few foreign flowers scattered amongst the Japanese ones, brightly colored blossoms and winding vines that spilled over even onto the cobblestone path leading to the gazebo. Munakata made a note of the route even as he took his time admiring the sights. 

“In here, if you would.” Munakata could just make out a figure waiting for him inside the gazebo and he stepped forward without a single moment of hesitation. 

“Ah, Tanuma-san,” Asai greeted Munakata as he entered. The man was sitting on a plush chair on one side of a stone table. A fairly expensive-looking chess board was laid out on the table and Asai indicated that Munakata should have a seat on the opposite side. “Please, come in, come in. I was hoping to find the time to speak with you privately before the auction begins.” 

“My, what a coincidence. I was hoping the same.” Munakata settled himself easily into the chair on the opposite side of the table. “I wasn't aware you were fond of chess, Asai-san.” 

“On the contrary, I find it quite relaxing.” Asai smiled and Munakata matched that look easily with his own, resting his head on his hands as he leaned forward. “I had heard you were considered to be quite a master, however. I thought you might like a game, as a way of passing the time until the _real_ show begins.” 

“Is that so?” Munakata's eyes shone with amusement. “Indeed, I do find such pursuits enjoyable. Well, then...shall we play?” 

– 

_I want to go home._ Fushimi's eyes were flat and dead as Ichida led him around the second floor of the townhouse for what had to be at least the third time. The man was keeping up a steady flow of inane chatter, discussing the architecture, the vases, the expensive stained-glass windows and the paintings that lined the hallways but Fushimi had long ago stopped listening. The man wouldn't let go of his hand and Fushimi was seriously considering the consequences of just gnawing it off to get away. 

On the bright side, the walk _had_ given him time to memorize the general layout of the entire second floor and he'd managed to pinpoint the location of the security console rather easily. Asai was clearly just as stupid as his henchmen, as the door had been clearly marked with the word 'Security' in big black characters. Fushimi had even managed to check the lock, feigning a fainting spell on the second walk around and discreetly turning the doorknob as he played at steadying himself. The door was locked but Fushimi didn't think that would be a problem – it was a stupid fancy door like everything else in this place and so made of wood instead of good solid metal, and wood would break easily even under Fushimi's weakened powers. 

Now if only he could get away from the moron who insisted on dragging him around everywhere, he could get this taken care of and finally get out of the stupid clingy dress and stupid impractical high heeled shoes. 

“Oh, Asakura-san, are you feeling tired?” It took Fushimi a second to realize that Ichida was speaking to him. Fushimi swallowed a sigh and gave Ichida a thin smile, nodding slightly. Ichida laughed, a little too loud, and Fushimi had to stop himself from clicking his tongue in reply. “Sorry about that, I suppose I got a bit carried away. Here, let's get you to a room to lie down.” 

_Finally._ Fushimi tried not to let his relief show as Ichida led him into one of the rooms that lined the hallway. Inside was what looked to be some kind of fancy sitting room with a large soft couch and a low coffee table stacked with books that Fushimi doubted anyone in this entire place knew how to read. Ichida helped him inside and Fushimi immediately all but fell onto the couch, doing his best to appear weak and dizzy. Hopefully even someone as thick as Ichida would get the hint and leave him alone to 'rest.' 

“It must be hard, being dragged around by someone like that Tanuma.” Unfortunately it didn't seem like Ichida was intending to do anything of the sort, and Fushimi wondered if he could knock the man out quickly enough to keep him from alerting anyone else. “If you don't mind me saying, Asakura-san, I don't like that guy's face. Sneaky guys like that could do anything, you know?” 

Fushimi snorted and quickly tried to cover it with a cough. 

“I've heard about the two of you, you know,” Ichida continued, sitting down on the couch next to Fushimi. Fushimi moved closer to the far side of the couch, trying to put some distance between them without obviously putting distance between them. “Sounds like you're the one who does all the _real_ work between the two of you. What do you even see in a guy like that?” 

Fushimi felt another laugh trying to escape and covered his face with his fan. 

“Asai-san pays well, you know.” Ichida turned to look at him, reaching for Fushimi's hands. The fan clattered to the floor as Ichida took hold of Fushimi's wrists and tried to pull him close. “You'd be taken care of here. You really wanna go back to whatever dingy apartment that guy's keeping you in, when you could be living the high life here?” 

_I'm going to rip his hands off._ Fushimi tried to keep his expression neutral as he attempted to pull his hands away. Ichida's grip was iron and suddenly the man smirked, hands tightening over Fushimi's hard enough to bruise. Fushimi suddenly found himself pushed back against the couch, head hitting the armrest hard. He winced, hands pinned above his head, Ichida leaning over him and smirking. 

“I'm an up and comer in this organization,” Ichida continued. One of his hands continued to hold tight to Fushimi's wrists as the other began to slide under the slit of Fushimi's dress, and Fushimi's entire body tensed. “You play your cards right, Asakura-san, and I can make things very good for you. Otherwise, well...we can do this the hard way too, if you get what I'm saying.” 

His fingers slid further up Fushimi's leg and then suddenly Ichida froze as his hand brushed against the knife harness strapped to Fushimi's thigh. 

“What the hell--” 

“If you don't get off me, scum, I'm going to kill you,” Fushimi said coldly, and kicked out with one leg. 

Kicked with one leg, and the heel of his shoe slammed neatly into Ichida's crotch. The man recoiled back in pain and surprise and Fushimi didn't bother to give him time to recover, yanking his hands free and sweeping out with his other leg to knock Ichida onto the ground. Fushimi rolled off the couch and landed easily on his feet, hands disappearing underneath his dress and pulling out three knives. There was a flash of steel and then Ichida was pinned neatly to the ground by the fabric of his own suit. 

“Tch. I'm not getting paid enough for this,” Fushimi muttered darkly as he pulled off his wig and tossed it to the floor. Luckily Ichida hadn't locked the door, at least. 

“W-what the hell?” Fushimi's eyes slid coldly back to look at Ichida, who was uselessly attempting to stand despite the knives keeping him stuck to the floor. “Who...?” 

Fushimi ignored him, pulling out another knife. The dress was definitely far too impractical for this sort of thing and he idly lit the knife up red as he widened the slit of the dress so that it came up slightly higher on his thighs and then began to cut the other side as well so that he could reach his weapons easier. 

“Wait—you're one of _those_ guys, aren't you?” Ichida said, apparently not having realized that Fushimi didn't intend to answer him at all. “That—that Homra, or whatever.” 

“Or whatever,” Fushimi agreed almost automatically, smirking to himself as he returned the knife to its sheath and moved towards the door. 

“Heh. The boss said we should be on the lookout for guys like you. Seems like I got lucky, huh?” 

“Big words from someone who can't move an inch to stop me,” Fushimi said mildly, reaching for the doorknob. 

To his surprise, Ichida grinned. 

Slowly, deliberately, the man raised one large hand and pressed it against one of the knives keeping him pinned to the ground. The knife glowed orange and then red, and then promptly melted away into a puddle of silver. 

“And a guy who only uses blades, too.” Ichida grabbed at the other knife and Fushimi grimaced as he darted out the door, not bothering to wait for Ichida to free himself entirely. 

He was only a few steps down the hallway when there was the sound of something like a siren and red lights suddenly began flashing along the walls. Fushimi swore to himself, Ichida must have activated the alarm system somehow. 

“This is so annoying,” Fushimi muttered as he lifted up the skirt of his dress and made a beeline for where he'd seen the security room. If he could at least get the main perimeter system deactivated it would only be a matter of time before the rest of Scepter 4 stormed the building and then it would be easy to make his escape in the commotion. 

One of his shoes caught in the carpet and Fushimi stumbled, falling onto his hands and knees with a curse. 

“Why the hell did I have to wear these?” Fushimi grumbled, yanking one shoe off his foot. From in the distance he could hear yelling and Fushimi's head shot up as Ichida came into view from around the curve of the hallway. One of Fushimi's hands started to reach for a knife and then stopped. 

Ichida was a Strain, that was clear. His power was apparently something to do with the ability to melt metal and quite possibly manipulate it as well, so throwing knives at him would only make him stronger. But fighting the man hand to hand wasn't much of an option either; Fushimi was certain that his agility and strategic mind were more than a match for the other man's brute strength but he didn't have to time to waste dealing with small fry. 

Fushimi's eyes slid to the shoe he was still holding in one hand. The shoe with its nice, sharp, pointy heel. 

Fushimi _smirked,_ and the shoe in his hand lit up red. 

– 

“What an unconventional move, Tanuma-san.” 

“Your praise is appreciated.” Munakata leaned back, waiting for Asai to make his move. The man wasn't bad, all things considered, but if he was being honest Munakata had been hoping for more of a challenge. Though it was rather amusing to see the way Asai's face paled every time Munakata made another move that turned the game to his advantage. 

Of course, unexpected moves were the entire point of this operation, and Munakata smiled. 

“It's not often I get to enjoy a game against such a master,” Asai continued, eyes sweeping over the chessboard. 

“Indeed. I could say the same.” Not that Asai was a master, of course, but it was rare that Munakata could convince anyone to play him at all. Really, he needed to find a way to talk Fushimi into the occasional game. “I had not heard that you were skilled in this game, Asai-san.” 

“I do find it a nice diversion, on occasion,” Asai said, carefully moving one of his pieces. “Your move, Tanuma-san.” 

“I would imagine a man with such resources as yourself would have no trouble finding a partner,” Munakata mused, staring thoughtfully at the board. He had already figured out at least three possible moves that would lead to a winning game but there was no need to rush his hand. 

“I'm afraid my resources have been stretched thin, of late,” Asai said. “Tell me, Tanuma-san...have you heard of the Dresden Slate?” 

“There were rumors of such a thing,” Munakata said calmly, keeping his tone casual as he finally made a move. Asai's expression pinched slightly, clearly he hadn't expected Munakata to make that particular move. 

“They say it is the thing which gave us these powers to begin with.” Asai held up one hand and a bright light began to coalesce in his palm. He maintained it for only a moment before closing his fist. “And, if the rumors on jungle's servers are true, it was also the cause of that panic two months ago.” 

“Yes, I recall,” Munakata said. “But I'm afraid that I do not put much stock in rumors, Asai-san.” 

“It is more than a rumor, Tanuma-san.” Asai gave Munakata and appraising look and then reached underneath the table, pulling out something wrapped in cloth. Slowly he unwrapped it, revealing a large chunk of gray stone. Munakata raised an eyebrow. “What if I said that I had recovered a piece of that very Slate, that source of power that we have all been seeking?” 

“I would say that such a thing might sell for a high price, to the right buyer,” Munakata said. “Of course, there is no guarantee that only a piece would be able to contain the powers of the whole. But those who seek power will do anything to keep hold of it, once obtained. Even pay a high price for an item which may be no more than useless piece of rock. Your move, Asai-san.” 

“You are as astute as I had heard,” Asai said, smile widening as he moved another piece on the board. “Yes, there are no guarantees that this piece of stone can restore the powers that have begun to wane. But to those who need their powers most and fear losing them, it can be a valuable bargaining chip. Wouldn't you agree...Blue King, Munakata Reisi?” 

– 

“He went down that way!” 

Fushimi clicked his tongue and threw two more knives down the hall, not bothering to see if they hit the target or not. He heard the screams of pain behind him though as blue power flared out from where they'd hit. 

He'd managed to get to the security console easily enough, and the system had been simpler than he'd expected. It hadn't taken long to hack into it and neutralize it but no sooner had the alert sirens turned off then three of Asai's goons had shown up at the door and begun shooting at him. He'd managed to throw up a shield and had then taken advantage of the distraction to get back out into the hallway but by now it seemed that most of Asai's security team had already been alerted to his presence. Getting back downstairs to meet up with Munakata was turning out to be unexpectedly difficult. 

Fushimi slipped a hand underneath his dress and swore quietly. He was down to only five knives now. 

“You aren't getting away that easily!” Fushimi slid to a stop, face twisting into a scowl as Ichida suddenly appeared in front of him. The man was bleeding heavily from the shoulder and clearly singed, but still moving and obviously pissed off. 

“I don't have time for this,” Fushimi muttered as he turned back and ran in the other direction. He didn't like the idea of retreating from a moron like Ichida, but even if he could spare his last few knives they would be no good against the Strain and Fushimi was out of shoes. 

“Ichida-san!” The voice came from in front of him and Fushimi reluctantly threw another knife, creating a small shield that was at least enough to delay the men approaching from in front of him. Fushimi whirled and there was Ichida still coming up from the opposite side, and Fushimi clicked his tongue again. He'd allowed himself to be neatly pinned in the middle of the hallway, with no escape except through his enemies. 

_Or..._ Fushimi turned. Behind him was one of the stupid fancy stained glass windows, overlooking the garden. 

“Kill him!” Ichida yelled, hands clenching into fists as he moved towards Fushimi. From the other side Fushimi could see the shield created by his last knife dimming. Fushimi rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, body beginning to glow with blue power. 

Then with a heavy sigh of long-suffering, Fushimi threw himself straight through the window. 

– 

“Quite bold of the Blue King, to come here himself,” Asai said. “Or should I say, _former_ Blue King? You yourself have no more powers, or so I've heard. Is that what you've come all the way here seeking, I wonder? The ability to regain your former strength?” 

“I believe you overestimate me, Asai-san,” Munakata said, eyes shining keenly. “But as I said before, I do not place much faith in rumors myself. After all, the rumors say that you have found a piece of the Dresden Slate and yet it appears that all you have in your possession is a simple chunk of rock, taken from the crumbled remains of jungle's headquarters.” 

“As expected of the former Blue King,” Asai said. His voice remained arrogant but there was a slight tightening of his expression. “I suppose you of all people would be able to recognize a piece of the Dresden Slate when he sees it. You must be terribly disappointed, I imagine.” 

“On the contrary,” Munakata replied pleasantly. “I'm afraid that you yourself and your esteemed guests are the target of this venture. I have no need of the remains of a system that is no longer necessary.” 

“No longer necessary?” Asai laughed darkly. “Coming from you that's rather thin, Munakata. I note that Scepter 4 has not disbanded, nor abandoned their own powers.” 

“Scepter 4's duty is not yet complete,” Munakata noted. “As long as remaining Strains such as yourself continue to plague this country, our duty to uphold order remains as strong as ever.” 

“And when all of our powers have faded away, and we are all left as 'normal humans,' the same as yourself?” Asai's lip curled in distaste. “Don't tell me you have no designs on regaining your own power. I'm not that big a fool.” 

“Aren't you?” Munakata's eyes were hard as ice, even as his face remained serene. “I'm afraid that I must disappoint you, then. There is nothing to be gained from clinging to a past that no longer exists. The Slate has given us many gifts, to be certain, the power to arrange the world as one sees fit, the ability to bring order where only chaos once existed. But it has required many sacrifices in this pursuit as well, and at some point one must measure the gains and the losses.” _'That's unlike you, Munakata,'_ half-heard words that rang in his head even still, and Munakata met Asai's eyes fearlessly. “As such, I have come to my own conclusions. I will continue to follow my own path, even if it has swerved in a direction I did not intend. I will not devote my life to chasing things which already lay in ruins behind me. That is a fool's errand of the purest sort, Asai-san. Better to look forward and gather my existing powers with my own hands, and continue upon to a new destination rather than be forever looking back upon things I cannot change.” 

“Really?” Asai seemed to be sweating slightly as he stood, and his hands were glowing. “You really _are_ a fool then. These powers were a _gift_ to us! Powers that should have allowed us to stand above everyone, as a King does! That you would give something up so easily--” 

“I do not believe I said that I had given up such powers _easily,”_ Munakata mused, remaining seated with his arms resting on the stone table, fingers steepled together. “Only that I will not dwell on what I have lost, when there are things yet that my hands can still hold.” 

“Not for long.” Asai laughed again. “Pretty words, Munakata, but pretty words won't save you here. The underground networks of Shizume remain strong, and we _know_ you. You have no powers now. Here, alone, you are helpless. How does that feel, great _King?”_

“Am I helpless, then?” Munakata didn't so much as flinch. “I believe we have a fundamental difference in our ways of thinking, Asai-san. Though my powers may be gone, I am not someone who easily throws away a single card without reinforcing his entire hand first.” 

“You are indeed everything I had heard,” Asai said. There was power growing in his hands now, a glowing sphere of light forming between his palms. “I did enjoy our game, Munakata, but I'm afraid that it's time to bring things to an end. Perhaps you can ponder on that philosophy of yours, in your last moments before you die.” 

He raised one hand, the ball of light brightening even further and then flattening into a long wide disc, sparks burning along the sharpened edges. Asai laughed and pulled his hand back, eyes never leaving Munakata's as he moved to throw-- 

\--and then four knives flashed out of nowhere and Asai sputtered as he was thrown back against the wall of the gazebo, arms pinned above his head, blood darkening his sleeves where the blades cut too close. The power in his hands blinked out instantly. 

“As I said, Asai-san.” Munakata stood then, walking forward as Asai struggled against the knives that held him in place. “Placing one's entire trust in something as simple as mere power is a fool's errand. It is far better to always have an ace up one's sleeve instead, just in case.” 

In one swift move, Munakata calmly slammed his elbow hard into Asai's stomach. Asai sputtered for a moment and then his body sagged limply in place, still held up by the knives. 

Munakata observed the body for a moment and then turned to look towards the open door of the gazebo. 

“Perfect timing as always, Fushimi-kun.” 

“Tch. Please do your own work next time, Captain,” Fushimi said darkly, leaning against the doorjamb and still breathing a little hard. His dress was torn and covered in mud, and there were leaves sticking out of his hair. Munakata gave a small laugh as he turned back to the chess board, calmly moving one of his pieces. 

“Now...I believe that is checkmate, Asai-san.” 

– 

“We were able to secure the rest of the building before most of the occupants were aware. A few managed to escape into the surrounding areas, Akiyama-kun is leading a team in pursuit now.” 

Fushimi leaned against the wall of the gazebo as he watched Awashima deliver her report to Munakata. Several other members of Scepter 4 were putting Asai into handcuffs and leading him away. 

“Well done, Awashima-kun. Please see to the rest of the operation. Fushimi-kun and I will join you shortly.” 

“Yes sir.” Awashima gave a quick bow and then turned away, directing the other members outside and following after, barking orders as she went. Fushimi sighed irritably and went to retrieve the four knives he'd used on Asai, returning them carefully to the harness still strapped against his thigh. His bare feet ached a little as he walked, the run through the garden after escaping the second floor had not been easy. The shield he'd placed over himself had at least managed to mitigate most of the damage from jumping through the window, but his dress had been ripped in a dozen places and there were small cuts all over his arms and legs. Really, he wasn't being paid enough for this. 

“Are we done now, Captain?” Fushimi muttered as Munakata walked over to join him. 

“It seems that everything has been taken care of,” Munakata said. “Awashima-kun says that everything proceeded well according to the plan once you were able to deactivate the security system. Thank you for your hard work as always, Fushimi-kun.” 

“Tch. Just don't expect me to do this again.” Fushimi's eyes traveled to the chunk of rock still sitting on the stone table. “So it wasn't anything, huh?” 

“It seems not,” Munakata replied. “Apparently Asai-san was only able to get his hands on a normal piece of debris. He hoped to use the strength of rumor to convince his potential buyers that it was a piece of the Dresden Slate, able to reinforce their weakened powers.” 

“What would you have done if it was real?” Fushimi almost didn't realize he'd vocalized the thought until he saw Munakata raise an eyebrow in reply. “If you could get everything back. Would you have taken it?” 

“Perhaps,” Munakata admitted easily, and Fushimi started a bit in surprise at the honest answer. “I will not deny that I can feel something missing, sometimes, inside. The power of a King is not something that can disappear unmissed, after all. But I have no desire to shackle myself to what-ifs. The Dresden Slate is gone. I do not intend to devote myself to seeking things that are lost, at the expense of that which I have already obtained.” He glanced over at Fushimi, smiling slightly. “And in any case, even without my powers I can still remain at ease, with such dependable subordinates at my command.” 

Fushimi's face felt suddenly hot and he quickly looked away, clicking his tongue again. 

“Can we go now? I'm tired and I want to get out of this stupid dress.” 

“Of course, Fushimi-kun. Please allow me.” 

“What are you—hey!” Fushimi sputtered in disapproval as Munakata abruptly wrapped his arms around Fushimi's waist and swept him off his feet, holding him princess-style as he began to walk back through the garden. “What the hell do you think you're--” 

“Oh? I am simply trying to repay you for your service, Fushimi-kun,” Munakata said pleasantly. “This area is rather rough and it seems that you've lost your shoes, after all.” 

“You...” Fushimi glared at him and Munakata smiled back, calm and amused, and with a sigh Fushimi stopped struggling and allowed himself to be carried. “Whatever. But only until we get back to the vans.” 

“Of course, Fushimi-kun.” Munakata's arms seemed to tighten just a bit around Fushimi's body and Fushimi couldn't help but find himself relaxing slightly, leaning into Munakata as his own weariness finally began to settle over him. 

“I'm definitely getting overtime for this,” Fushimi muttered petulantly into Munakata's collar and Munakata laughed quietly in reply. 

“I will keep that in mind, Fushimi-kun.”


End file.
